


A Springsuit's lament

by DragonQueenTessa



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: A brief death scene, And a lot of sad kids!, Gen, Might have a chapter 2, Origin of Springtrap, Set-up for FnaF 3, Spring Bonnie uses a different name in this fic, references to murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:30:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22972726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonQueenTessa/pseuds/DragonQueenTessa
Summary: 'Spring Bonnie' they had named it. A lifeless suit that needed the support of an endoskeleton or a human to move. When it wasn't performing on stage, it mostly sat in a backroom. It could be worn by entertainers at birthday parties, but there were serious health and safety concerns about it and its' ursine counterpart, and so the golden suits were retired with the arrival of new and improved animatronics.It should have been something simple, a kids' animal mascot to be donned by an employee. But like with many other things in this small franchise, what was completely ordinary could become something inexplicable through the power of tragedy.Recently discontinued, Fuzzhare 'Spring Bonnie' had awoken for the first time. From there, at the hands of a monster, it was a slow downward spiral.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	A Springsuit's lament

How long had it been, now? They are sure their mind has existed for a few years by this point. It’s hard to count the days without a reliable internal clock, though. They have no real frame of reference, even the other soul stuck with them has lost track.

But Fuzzhare knows they’ve been sitting here for a long, long time. They have felt the slow decay of their mechanisms and hull.

_"Do you think you will ever be found?"_ They ask internally, but the question isn’t directed at themselves.

The other being doesn’t so much as acknowledge their question. Figures. He’s a very cantankerous individual at the best of times. They can’t really blame him, though. Fuzzhare only has so many questions to ask and he’s heard them all countless times. He had quite confidently answered this very inquiry before, way back, when they had just begun to get acquainted. Fuzzhare has a hunch that his answer would be different now, though.

It’s a little odd, being bound to a human spirit. Those organic creatures are so worried about the passage of time, rushing incessantly as if they could drop dead at any moment. The only reason Fuzzhare used to track the time was because their programs told them when the failed diner at which they had once been a main attraction was opened, and this meant guests had to be greeted.

Children had to be entertained.

**Those little bastards.**

_"Ah. There you are. Earth to Mister."_ Fuzzhare snarks lightly. Figures the human’s thoughts would abruptly surface with the mention of one of his favourite subjects.

To be fair, it’s one of Fuzzhare’s most cherished topics, too. The way their thoughts concerning kids diverge couldn’t be more night and day, though. Is it day right now? Neither of them know. In the damp darkness, it doesn't matter one bit.

Fuzzhare doesn’t sigh, but their withering frame creaks in a soft mimicry of the sound. They miss the children. The cheering, the sound of celebration, the smell of pizza and birthday cake. It was the most normal thing in the world to them once, and yet, it had been special.

They only had a few months with the children. Their awareness, an artificial intelligence in a way, had manifested seemingly from nothing, and for a little while things were good. They liked having thoughts and memories, even if they could not share them.

_"Why did you hurt the children?"_ Fuzzhare asks, another query they craved an answer to. Things hadn’t remained smooth sailing for long. Their being had grown out of _his_ love for them. His appreciation of their golden hare-self. When given the choice, he would always pick them. Wear them. For joy and parties…

And for his sins.

**"Do you want̕ to be ̡fo̴unḑ?"**

…

He so rarely asks questions of his own, Fuzzhare is never ready for it.

_"Yes,"_ they answer hurriedly anyway. _"More than anything. I miss the happiness, and my friends…"_

They know he doesn’t like their friends, and nobody likes him. They told him about all of them. Marionette, Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Foxy… And they talked to him about Fredbear, even though Fredbear wasn’t really a friend. Fredbear had never been a person, just a peaceful shell like the rest of them should have been. He was gone now, anyway, taken apart and used for parts. It didn’t matter anymore. They were quite sure a few parts of Fredbear had been used to repair his hare counterpart over the years.

Fuzzhare thinks they would have been best friends with Fredbear, though. Their own form was a combination of the two of them now. Their names even matched.

Mister had protested against this notion for a while. **‘Your name isn't Fuz͏zhąre, that's not what we called you.’** He would state.

He was so bossy, even in death. Had Fuzzhare known that the two of them would wind up melded together, them and one of their creators, they perhaps would not have volunteered themselves for this.

_‘Spring Bonnie is a stupid name’,_ they had shot back every time until he gave up. _‘I don't want to be Bonnie. Gabriel is already Bonnie.’_

Mister hadn’t liked any of Fuzzhare’s friends from the start, but he hated Fredbear. _Despised him._ Even long after the bigger golden suit had been dismantled, Mister’s rage burned. He clearly had a history with the bear animatronic.

…

It's so lonely, only ever having one other person to talk to, and he isn't even nice. He had adored the golden hare suit, once upon a time, when it had been just a suit he had a special purpose for… but Fuzzhare couldn't like him anymore, not after what he had done with them.

He'd lured those kids to a back room while wearing Fuzzhare. He'd made the children's' smiles go away while Fuzzhare could do nothing but watch, confused.

Marionette, chronologically the eldest of the possessed creations, had later explained to them that the kids had been murdered. Just like she had been.

Marionette was Fuzzhare's most reliable source of information. When the other animatronics had flared to life thanks to the souls of the five children, Marionette had explained that she had bound them to the mascots so that they could all help the cause.

Marionette… Charlotte, needed vengeance before she could pass on to the afterlife. Jeremy, Gabriel, Fritz, Suzie and Cassidy quickly joined the group, for they were in the same predicament. Having a mechanical body would at least give them some means by which to destroy.

Fuzzhare was so different from them. To start, they had no human name.

They couldn't exactly in good conscience adopt the alias of _William_ , now could they? Even if he had technically given them that first spark of said conscience.

They had never had a human body of their own, either, but they had understood eventually what the children had gone through. A man who made children stop smiling was a bad man, and they distinctly recalled realizing Mister, or William Afton, was 'the Worst Man' Fuzzhare had ever heard of.

Through their initially one-sided connection to William, their personality had over time come to twist into something more cynical and mature than those of the children’s ghosts who talked to them, and with the knowledge of what he had done, they had begun to feel vengeful, too.

Their artificial soul imitated his darkness, but their malice was strictly aimed at him.

Fuzzhare, unable to move in the suit mode their retirement had condemned them to, had made the offer to Charlotte when the Security Puppet had visited them in the restaurant’s safe room one night. She and Cassidy were the only one who could enter. The four main animatronics could not see this hidden room.

Fuzzhare knew that William favored the golden hare suit heavily, and that this could be used to their advantage. Fuzzhare had learned they were a particularly faulty springlock suit, only the second ever built, and William had been lucky enough to survive them once when they had apparently failed on him before becoming aware. They had caught glimpses of his deeply-scarred skin. How he could still stand to wear them was a mystery. Was it pride in having expert control over what he had created?

With nothing better to do than reminisce, they began to recount the events that lead them here. The plan to trap and kill him. Waiting, ready to bring the pain. The years of loneliness in an abandoned building, the first restaurant of many.

Each time William wore them after the plan had been forged, Fuzzhare would try to carry out their murderous intent on the terrible man, but his expertise left him very resistant to the small, errant pokes and prods from the sentient suit's attempts to have him make a sudden enough movement for the springlocks to snap loose.

For months, he got away with it. Sneaking in under the guise of doing maintenance in order to secretly wear the suit he had built, practicing and refining the art of wearing it so he would be ready for another string of killings with his beloved disguise, even if it was in some minor disrepair with the lack of use. Fuzzhare felt so useless. Violated, too, for it was their body that the monster had hijacked for his own nefarious purpose once, and could very well do again. It frustrated all the spirits to no end to see him continue living while his animated victims roamed the halls at night in hopes of finding him, and Fuzzhare heard plenty of Gabriel's and Fritz's doubts about the chances of the outdated springsuit actually being able to help the cause. They, with Jeremy, Suzie and Cassidy, did not like Fuzzhare very much.

There was a police investigation at one point, and William wasn't seen by the spirits for a little while, but they did sense his presence again eventually. He didn't go into the saferoom though. Fuzzhare was left to wait longer.

Then the location closed down. All the animatronics were left there. The company would apparently be making new, more 'kid-friendly' toy mascots to replace them. Only the Marionette was removed from the condemned location. Freddy and his friends would be revamped, their abandoned, withered shells still hosting conveniently 'forgotten' children.

That Fredbear and 'Spring Bonnie' had ever existed would be denied.

William went away, following the Fazbear Franchise. Cassidy and the other ghosts wanted to go away, go chase William. But they were bound to this building.

They continued talking to Fuzzhare for a while, since they were all stuck in this decrepit restaurant anyway. But them being the disguise with which the killer had acted, inevitably marked them as the black sheep of the group. The voices that wanted to include Fuzzhare in their conversations had left with Charlotte's removal from the building.

Cassidy was a black sheep too, to be fair. An apparition rather than a real animatronic, wearing the golden fur that reminded Fuzzhare so of Fredbear. Cassidy once revealed that she had taken this form specifically for William. She knew he had hated the springlock bear, and had taken on traits of the demolished mascot’s likeness just to haunt the man. But unlike Fuzzhare, she had a human soul within, blazing, brightly and bravely with sadness and a fiery wrath. She belonged with the other children, not the last springlock, as much as their colours matched.

_She_ became the loudest voice in that empty place, as much as Charlotte had tried to lead them before she was taken away.

And Fuzzhare was left behind.

Then, one night, _he came back._ It seems they were _all_ cursed to be drawn to this location. Maybe Charlotte had haunted him at that new pizzeria, and driven him back here. It had been so long since he had been near.

He broke in through a boarded-up window, and, wielding an axe and flashlight, took the four possessed animatronics capable of movement apart, one after the other. Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Foxy.

_Jeremy, Gabriel, Suzie, Fritz..._ Fuzzhare could hear their metal bodies being destroyed just beyond the springsuit's view.

Unbeknownst to him, breaking the suits set free the spirits, and on the fifth night, there was a confrontation. Cassidy, the one most full of rage at her untimely demise, lead the charge, striking fear into his heart when she and the souls of the broken animatronics cornered him in the opened saferoom from whence he had ambushed the four mascots.

Fuzzhare's room. Where they had watched him prepare for every attack, ignoring his old faithful disguise.

The ghosts of the five children whom William had lured with his golden disguise held back, still afraid of the old Fuzzhare suit that had unwillingly lead them to their deaths.

But someone had to step up, and it was Cassidy who triumphed over her fear. She stood her ground, and even approached the lanky, paled monster, her ghostly form unbothered by the panicked swipes he made at her with his axe.

In his distressed state, William didn't think, forgetting to keep his breathing measured, or take into account the water dripping from cracks in the deteriorated roof.

He hastily put on the springlock suit.

_A perfect storm of mistakes._

_'I have you now,'_ Fuzzhare had triumphantly declared, like a smug voice in his head but for the entire room to hear. _'You kept us waiting, William.'_

That night was the first time they had revealed their sentience to him, and the startled pounding of his heart filled them with a twisted approximation of joy.

His manic laughter was aborted with a brutal efficiency as the springlocks snapped loose, smashing their metal and plastic into yielding skin and flesh, crossbeams piercing through soft, squishy organs, the steel of the springlock suit's wound endoskeleton clamping tightly around living bone. It was a beautiful cacophony of pain, a morbid project so long in the making, now presented with great fanfare to a crowd of five.

And they were pleased at the sight. Fuzzhare made true on their promise. Yet, the ghosts remained.

Their animatronic bodies destroyed, Jeremy, Gabriel, Suzie and Fritz were locked out of a physical form. Cassidy wandered the room aimlessly, flitting in and out of view in her golden ‘Freddy’ suit, unbound by logic and laws of physics, unable to do anything to her killer anymore.

And William didn't die, not really. They had started with six trapped souls, and ended with seven.

Beyond the bloody spectacle, Fuzzhare had let the children down. Now they were _all_ well and truly stuck here, with no hope of escape but for the minute chance of being salvaged.

The four ‘main’ animatronics’ spirits, their mechanical bodies now nothing but junk, returned to wandering the halls in their ghostly shapes, waiting for their withered hulls to be recovered and rebuilt but unwilling to stay in the presence of this twitching bloodied heap. Fuzzhare could sense Cassidy though, however faintly. William's new predicament brought her joy, though her frustration at this outcome was quite evident. Apart from that weak spirit aura? Nothing. Nothing but the mice and Fuzzhare and William.

They would wind up being one for a long, long, long time. Many bitter, hate-filled years lay ahead.

...

_"I wonder how much longer people will keep us waiting,"_ Fuzzhare wonders, breaking free from their little trip down memory lane. Days could very well have passed while they had played out every little detail in their head.

**"They̸'ll t-̵t͢ear͘ you ap̕art for s-s̢-̸s̛crap"** , William hisses, flexing his shattered fingers and the suit’s with them.

_"Perhaps a collector of vintage machines will take us in."_ Fuzzhare counters, sensing the light motion.

Wait. Since when could William manipulate the suit again? Fuzzhare only had limited control through their messy, misaligned corpse-metal mix of an endoskeleton and really saw no need at all to move, but human bodies ceased all movement minutes after death. His soul didn’t perish that night, but his body most certainly had. He shouldn’t have been capable of moving it.

_"How are you doing that?"_ They ask, suddenly overcome with what must be trepidation. They don’t know how controlling this body will go if both sides suddenly have a say.

William just chuckles malevolently, and somehow, the coarse sound rings out into the deafening silence of the dark room they have been stuck in together for a grand total of thirty years. He can move. He can _speak out loud._

He’s come back _again._ If Fuzzhare could weep, they would. What a cruel fate theirs was.

**"A stron̛g wi̷ll t-to ęnd͝u̵re and s-see ̕thi̛ngs thr̸ǫ-ugh to the end, de͟arest S̷pring͏ ̵Bo-nni̴e."** Comes his raspy but undeniably smug answer. The suit that trapped him doesn’t reply to his words, bitter and afraid of what was to come.

**"H͝ush ̴n͘ow,"** The monster within urges. **"-s̨-s-s̨omeone̶ is̡ o̷n ͜th͡e way̨. If you w̡ant-t ͟to b̕e͏ fo-un͢d̵ and recovere̵d̨, we mus͢t ͟s̢t̕a̢y v̵er̨y ͜still. ͟Be sure t-to̷ fol̵low̵ m͜e..."**

In the quiet dark that followed, Fuzzhare could hear muted footsteps and near-inaudible murmurs beside the wall. Beyond that minor disturbance, they heard six tired children's souls wailing just out of reach.

Their nightmare would have yet more chapters.

_T͟his̴ is ̵Hell.͞.._

**Author's Note:**

> So! First FnaF fic I ever made. Don't know if there will be more.
> 
> Good lord, I remember the year 2014. Markiplier's first upload of this odd little indie title, and the start of an impressively confusing but intriguing storyline. This is my attempt at turning Spring Bonnie from a mere prop/plot device into more of an actual character. I don't know why I decided to pick the only suit that isn't possessed by a kid (or possessed at all pre-Springtrap for that matter), because there are no character traits to work with. Maybe it's exactly because of the sandbox aspect.
> 
> Disclaimer: I cannot be sure that this fic was accurate to the story as we know it so far, please excuse any minor timeline error. This fic takes place in the FnaF restaurant that was 'kind of left to rot', so not a location that we saw any gameplay in, barring the FnaF 3 'follow me' minigames. Fredbear has been dismantled for a few years (following the bite of '83), and Spring Bonnie was only kept as a spare suit once the crew of 4 we know and love took over from the outdated golden mascot duo.
> 
> While I wrote Spring Bonnie as a they/them using character, I headcanon their voice as sounding like Zira's from TLK2. A little cruel, sneering, sadistic, which I think is a good fit for a sentient deathtrap with William's name on it.
> 
> Now my question to you dear readers is as follows: Do you want a second chapter? And if so, should I write about...  
> \- Marionette first meeting Fuzzhare and asking where they came from?  
> \- Fuzzhare learning more about the dead children from Golden Freddy?  
> \- Marionette, Golden Freddy and Fuzzhare's plan to trap and kill William?  
> \- Fuzzhare and William learning to begrudgingly coexist before returning to opposing each other come the advent of the events in FnaF 3?


End file.
